Lucifer Never Cried
by shimmerinstars
Summary: Sam had survived Castiel knocking down the wall which divided him from 180 years of Hell memories. But keeping them contained and secluded within his mind had become more difficult with each day until one day Sam couldn't.


**Title:** Lucifer Never Cried

**Disclaimer: **Not mine

**A/N:** Thanks to Jedi Sapphire for her help and encouragement.

**Summary:** Sam had survived Castiel knocking down the wall which divided him from 180 years of Hell memories. But keeping them contained and secluded within his mind had become more difficult with each day until one day Sam couldn't.

oo00oo

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted, one need not to be a house. The brain has corridors surpassing material place." - Emily Dickinson

In a chair pulled up close to the hospital bed Dean sat watching his brother sleep. It had been a month since 180 years of Hell had caved in on Sam, and Dean was searching for any sign his younger brother had resurfaced from the horrific memories that had buried him deep inside his mind.

oo00oo

The nightmare began early one evening at Rufus's, where the brothers were staying. They'd picked up a case close enough to work it from the late hunter's house. After sitting at the kitchen table for hours doing research, which produced not one lead, Sam and Dean decided to take a break to get something to eat and watch a little TV.

Grabbing a couple of beers Sam passed one to Dean, who quickly made himself comfortable on the living room couch, where he began to flip through the channels.

Hearing Sam's voice quietly engaged in conversation Dean continued to channel surf while waiting for his brother to finish up his phone call and return with the sandwiches he had offered to make. Finally settling on a movie he knew both of them would like, Dean turned to ask Sam who had called.

But he never got the words out. Sam wasn't on his cell, nor was he putting together any sandwiches. He was pacing the kitchen floor deep in conversation with someone not seen.

"Sammy!" Dean got up, quickly moving towards his brother. "Talk to me!" he yelled not liking Sam's lack of response or how agitated he was starting to get with the hallucination he was speaking to.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, grabbing hold of his shoulders only to be caught off guard a second time by his brother's behavior. This time Sam collapsed to the floor with Dean holding on to him all the way down trying to cushion the fall.

Then Dean watched in horror as Sam began to seize violently for long seconds before he relaxed into what looked like a catatonic state.

Dean continued to call his brother's name, hands on Sam's shoulders, shaking him gently while searching his face for any response. Letting go of one shoulder he began to push the hair off Sam's face while emotionally pleading with him to wake up.

They had been in this situation before, Dean told himself, trying to remain hopeful. Sam had come out of it okay.

But not this time.

Sam had only appeared to regained consciousness. Dean's momentary elation and relief had been brutally erased with the realization his brother wasn't reacting to him or anything else. Sam was back in Hell and it was reflected in the behavior Dean observed over the next few days, which alternated between Sam having incoherent conversations or arguments with someone not seen,and Sam huddling in a corner shaking and gently rocking, sometimes muttering or even whimpering or curled up on the floor screaming in agony.

Then there was the behavior Dean witnessed most, the quiet unresponsive Sam who just stared with empty eyes. Dean believed that was the closest his brother came to emerging. It felt like Sam was just under the surface fighting to regain control of his mind. At those times, physically Sam was the most receptive to work with, since he put up no fight and could be guided to move around where needed. It was also when Dean talked to his brother nonstop, certain he could somehow reach him.

Dean did the best he could taking care of Sam over the next few days, barely leaving his brother's side. But there seemed to be no reaching Sam, no way to pull his brother back from the Hell memories he was trapped in.

And it became painfully clear to Dean that Lucifer had often used his physical appearance while torturing Sam. When he relived these memories of being tortured it would be Dean that Sam pleaded with to stop, not Lucifer. And the first realization of this brought Dean to his knees and tears.

It didn't take Dean long to discover there were problems he wasn't equipped to handle. He could barely get Sam to eat or drink and he couldn't stay awake 24/7 to keep an eye on him. Once Dean dozed off for a few minutes and woke to find Sam missing but safe and not far from the house. The possibilities of what could have happened scared the hell out of him and it also woke him up to the fact he needed help. Sam was going to need more taking care of than Dean alone could give him.

Three days almost to the moment Hell pulled Sam back in, Dean found himself with no options and no one to turn to for help. Dropping into an old armchair Dean glanced over at Sam asleep on the couch. He was safe and secure for now, but the question remained where did they go from here?

"Bobby" Dean spoke. The sound of his name taking on new meaning with him gone. "I miss you so much, man," he said, his eyes welling up with tears." What do I do?" he asked. "How do I help Sammy?"

The sound of his cell shook Dean out of his despair and he grabbed the phone off the coffee table, glancing over at Sam before checking the number, which he didn't recognize . But he picked up anyway to find it was Garth, a quirky but good hearted hunter who had helped him and Sam out on a case a few months ago. He was just in town and wanted to say hello and Dean feeling he had no time for this now with all he was dealing with just wanted to hang up.

But instead Dean found himself asking Garth for help and he had no idea why. The words just came out.

oo00oo

Arriving in a short time at the house Garth was accompanied by his younger brother "Hunter" who like Garth was a hunter too. If Dean hadn't been so tired and scared for his brother this would have amused him immensely. Instead Hunter gave Dean a knowing look on the fun his parents must have had naming him.

Garth and Hunter had brought with them a plan to propose to Dean. Their uncle, Dr. Gavin Moodri was the head doctor in the psychiatric ward of a small hospital approximately four hours away, just across the border into the next state. At this hospital Sam would be safe and secure and being under their uncle's care he would be treated with the knowledge of what he was actually dealing with and not wrongfully diagnosed and given drugs for an illness he did not have.

Garth explained his uncle was a psychiatrist, not a hunter, but that he was well informed on the life being he came from a long line of hunters. So he knew firsthand what this job could do to a hunter, not only physically but mentally too. He also had to his credit a long history of helping out hunters in all sorts of distress, and granted Sam's case was a unique and extreme one but he was ready and willing to help and would be expecting them unless otherwise notified.

Dean agreed to everything, appreciative but still somewhat stunned by the unexpected help. In preparation for the trip Garth administered to Sam a mild sedative their uncle had suggested to keep him calm. Dean packed the rest of their things, holding on to the slinky Sam had given him an extra moment before carefully placing it in his duffle.

oo00oo

The two sets of brothers arrived at the hospital without any complications and soon they had Sam settled in his room.

Dr. Moodri was everything his nephews had said he'd be, a good guy who cared and while discussing Sam's case with both Garth and Hunter present Doctor Moodri revealed to Dean that he wasn't alone in helping those in the hunting life who were hurting or suffering. That there was a small but ever growing underground network of hunters and non-hunters with various types of medical training who helped where and when needed. They weren't established in every state yet but they were getting close to being nationwide.

Dr. Moodri's wife Jillian, who Dean was introduced to earlier and who was with Sam during this meeting, was among them. A nurse who worked in the same ward as her husband, and who would be heavily involved with Sam's care. She would also have limited help from a couple of other nurses from this underground organization who lived in the nearby area. Together they would keep Sam hydrated, nourished, clean and all around physically well. While Dr. Moodri and Dean worked on his mind.

Not missing the look on Dean's face when he picked up that slinky and with having a younger brother himself Garth named their little group "Team Sam." He along with his brother Hunter told Dean they would pitch in and help whenever they could, as there would be plenty of things to do outside of the little medical knowledge the both of them had.

Dr. Moodri made it clear Dean was to be with Sam as much as he wanted. Not only because he was family but because Dean was the key to Sam's best chance of a recovery. Moodri told Dean he was on the right path, believing Sam would respond to his voice in time. But that was only part of what the doctor had in mind. He wanted to stimulate all of Sam's senses as often and in as many ways as possible, using everything familiar to him. Doctor Moodri believed it was up to Sam to fight his way out but it would be Dean who would give him reason and show him the way. He also explained to Dean he would be using only mild medication and only when needed to calm his brother down as he wanted Sam open and receptive to their therapy, not block out their efforts.

So Dean, working within the confines of his brother's behavior, read Sam his favorite books, talked endlessly about all aspects of their lives, and played his favorite music. Always making sure Sam felt his touch Dean easily fell into a routine of holding on to Sam's hand while reading or talking to him, and gently stroking his face after a Hell memory had left him visibly shaken. That seemed to reach Sam, by the way it stilled him almost in a calming and welcoming way.

With Dean's help Jillian used an electric fragrance lamp to fill Sam's hospital room daily with scents that had some special meaning to him. From the cinnamon short bread cookies he had a weakness for, to the smell of a pine tree something Sam has loved since they were kids when Dean surprised him one Christmas with a scrawny Charley Brown looking tree. Which he had picked up from the reject pile of a tree lot. Which to a young Sam after Dean put on a half lit broken set of lights, a couple of candy canes he talked out of a store Santa and the alumumin foil star he put on top was the most beautiful and best smelling thing he'd ever seen.

Dean made sure to wear his after shave, daily. He'd worn the same one since Sam was a kid. It had been such a constant in Sam's life he'd once said it seemed almost like a part of Dean to him. What Sam left unsaid was the safety and warmth that came with that scent Dean wore.

Dean even brought in Sam's laptop moving his fingers across the key board hoping something he loved and spent hours on would somehow help Sam find his way home.

Garth and Hunter stopped in as promised to help when they could but they also became a source of support and companionship Dean sorely needed with the lack of Bobby's presence often overpowering. Dean knew he had found friends for a lifetime in these two as well as their Aunt and Uncle and the others here at the hospital who had pitched in selflessly to help his brother. Dean already knew he owed them a debt he could never repay as they had given Sam his best shot at a recovery.

oo00oo

In a chair pulled up close to the hospital bed Dean sat watching his brother sleep. He was clinging to a feeling he'd had all day which he couldn't shake or explain that Sam would wake up soon. But now in the early hours of a new day Dean just chalked it up to exhaustion and decided to try and get some sleep. Resting his head on the bed, his hand finding Sam's, it wasn't long before he dozed off.

oo00oo

Dean wasn't sure how long he'd slept but with the sunlight filtering into the room it must have been a few hours. Sitting upright Dean found his brother on his back, still in the same position prior to falling asleep. Only now Sam had his eyes open staring at the ceiling.

Nothing had changed and this feeling he'd had that Sam would be back soon was just wishful thinking he surmised being he wanted it so badly.

Rising to his feet Dean leaned over and kissed his brother gently on the forehead before pushing the chair back to its rightful place.

"Dean" Sam spoke sounding fearful.

Not again. Dean cursed under his breath. How many times did this bastard torture my brother pretending to be me?

Not wanting to consider the answer to that question Dean stepped into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. He needed to focus, to get his head straight and get himself back in the game. There was no giving up, not ever, not when it came to Sam. Grabbing a towel Dean dried off his face and tossed it aside heading back into the hospital room more determined than ever to find a way to reach him.

But Dean was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of Sam sitting up. Who as Dean eyes widened turned his head towards Dean and spoke.

"Is this real?" Sam asked looking dazed and confused.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, starring momentarily in disbelief before practically leaping to his bedside.

"Is it really you Dean?" Sam asked, his pleading eyes nearly bringing Dean to tears.

"Yes." Dean answered his excitement barely containable as was the overwhelming urge to wrap his brother up in his arms. But with Sam's fragile state of mind he opted instead to take in a deep breath and sit on the bed close to Sam facing him.

"Dean?" Sam asked desperately wanting his brother but fearing it was another cruel joke by Lucifer.

"I'm here Sam. I'm here!" Dean reassured him.

Slowly Sam reached out his hand and gently stroked the side of Dean's face.

"This was you, wasn't it?" Sam said mimicking the tenderness he remembered.

"Yes! That was me," Dean said, no longer able to control his tears. "This is real Sammy and I'm real. You got to believe me."

"I do," Sam said softly, his gaze fixated on his finger tracing the trail a tear left on Dean's cheek. "Whenever Lucifer pretended to be you Dean , he never cried."

Sam lowered his head until it rested on Dean's chest. An invitation Dean eccepted without hesitation by wrapping his arms around Sam and pulling him close, closer still, and holding on to him tightly. Sam was home.

Dean knew he should be telling Dr. Moodri and all those involved with helping Sam the good news. He knew he had a lot of thank- yous to make to this new group of friends he made over this past month and whom Sam would get to know in time. But what Dean knew most of all was he wasn't letting go of Sam any time soon.


End file.
